


Lon Lon Ranch

by Ort



Series: Ruins [5]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Linked Universe, Lon Lon Ranch, Panic Attacks, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Sign Language, Wild and Time bond and it’s good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 21:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18302297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ort/pseuds/Ort
Summary: Wild waits, clutching his wound, but the pain does nothing to stop the horror that overcomes him as he watches Time sink to his knees.





	Lon Lon Ranch

**Author's Note:**

> Based of of Linked Universe. For more, find it on tumblr. 
> 
> Link to my own tumblr in profile

“M’ fine…”

“Pup, you are not at all fine.”

 

Wild glances back as he runs to see Twilight stumble; he’s draped between Time and Warriors, his feet dragging through the muddied ground as they make their way through the rain.  The rest of the group are faring slightly better; even Wind, despite everything, is alert and rummaging through his bag as he sits in Sky’s arms, his splinted leg bouncing as Sky jogs.  Wild swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself forward, ignoring the gash in his own arm. He’s reminded, for a moment, of running through a different rain and a hand slipping from his grasp, but he pushes the thought from his mind.  Behind him, Time is murmuring encouragements to Twilight. Wild tries not to dwell on the shakiness of his voice or how Twilight can’t seem to respond with anything more than a groan. 

 

“Wild!”  It’s Time.  “We need to find shelter, now!”

“I know, I know, I just-” Wild breaks off, looking around, frantic.  They’re in the middle of Hyrule field and the rain and remains of old guardians aren’t helping him to keep a straight mind.  He skids to a stop, the others following close behind, and spins, searching. It’s hard to see through the storm, the pounding rain mimicking the pounding in his chest.  He can feel panic like a stone in his stomach and he holds back a yell of frustration. 

 

“Wild, please…”

Time is looking at him through the rain and Wild is caught off guard by his elder’s own panic filled eye.  

 

Twilight has gone silent, blood dribbling down his chin only to be washed away by the storm, and Wild chokes.  

 

“I’m trying, I…” He trails off.  Through the wind and water, he can see it; the blurred outline of a broken tower.  

 

He hesitates.  

 

He thinks of Malon and Epona and Time, happy and peaceful, and then he thinks of splintered wood and piles of stone and overgrown weeds.  

 

Twilight coughs wetly and Wild makes up his mind.  He turns to Time, determined.

 

“I know a place.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time today, Wild is grateful for the rain.  Its falling hard enough that the rest of the ruins are cast in a dark haze, making them practically unrecognizable.  Time is so focused on getting his protege out of the rain that he doesn’t seem to realize where they are; he just blindly follows Wild’s instructions and makes his way into the shelter of the ranch tower ruins with Warriors.  They lay Twilight on the ground as the others file in and begin to work.

 

Wild crouches by the entrance, silent.  He doesn’t trust himself to speak now, doesn’t know if he can.  He watches as Time presses his hands to Twilight’s side, as Warriors, elevates his legs, as Hyrule steps forward with potions.  Wind is sat next to Sky on a chunk of caved in wall, and Wild can see the way he’s itching to help despite Sky’s insistence that he rests.  Legend and Four Swords sit together off to the side, tallying supplies and handing out potions and bandages when needed. Outside the storm rumbles on, thunder shaking the tower around them.  A flash of lightning illuminates the field, but no one seems to notice but Wild.

Guilt swells in him like flood water.  Twilight is unresponsive where he lays, though Time is trying his best to change that.  Between bandaging and potions, he’s shaking Twilight’s shoulder and patting his face. Nobody mentions the crack in his voice despite his efforts to remain stern and calm.  Wild presses against the stone wall and looks away. 

 

His fault.  Should have known.  

 

The ranch field is empty; with the Calamity gone, there’s been a decline of monsters in this area.  Wild had been relieved when he and Zelda had first returned to document the fields; the ruins had seemed more peaceful, quiet.  

 

It’s wrong, he realizes.  

 

He thinks of Malon working the ranch and of her horses in the field, of her song filling the air.  She’d been so kind to him, and he let her down. Let her and Time’s legacy down. Another flash of lightning cracks across the sky and Wild can see the rest of ranch for just a moment; the skeleton of the house stands in defiance against the storm, a monument to his failure.  He brings a hand to him arm, clutching at the open wound. It stings when he touches it, but the pain is a reminder. He deserves it, he thinks.

He can feel eyes on him; Legend is watching him from across the room, his lips drawn into a tight line.  Wild looks at him out of the corner of his eye and prays Legend lets him alone; he can’t deal with pity right now.  Not from Legend or Four Swords or Sky or Warriors or Hyrule or Wind or Time… 

 

He wants Twilight.  Wild’s grip tightens on his arm and he bites his lip, fighting tears.  

 

Twilight, who’s currently sprawled on the ground with a gaping wound on his side, motionless.         

 

It’s too still here.  There’s so much flurry, so much panic and movement, but it’s too still;  the rain is falling in sheets and the tower is shaking, but Wild feels like he’s breathing through tree sap.  

 

Legend is back to focusing on Twilight.  The others aren’t paying attention to anything but their injured comrade.  

 

Wild slips out into the storm.  

 

* * *

 

He sprints across the field; he can’t hear anything over the rain.  If the others have noticed his absence, he doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to.  

 

Wild makes his way under the archway, eyes cast downward.  The rotted wood of the ranch house offers little shelter, but Wild’s not sure if he deserves it anyways.  He sits under the remains of a toppled wall, doing his best not to step on the broken pieces of a tea set.  He’d rummaged through this place countless times before, never knowing what it was; whose it was. He toes aside a broken cup; the delicate designs of a bird in flight almost completely distorted by a spider web of cracks on the cup’s surface.  He tries to picture the family that lived here, that drank tea and collected cucco eggs and tamed wild mares, but all he sees is Time and Malon. He sees them sitting at their table, holding hands over breakfast and talking about the future. 

Their future and their children’s future and their children’s future and so on.  

 

Somewhere along that line is Twilight.  

 

Wild draws his knees to his chest.  He doesn’t know if the others realize how far away he is; how much time has passed since each of them drew the sword from stone to when he grasped the hilt himself.  He thinks he does. 

 

It’s been a long time.  

 

Their future is his present.  His past, that he destroyed and doesn’t even have the decency to remember.

 

Wild isn’t sure if he’s crying or not; the rain is in his eyes anyways, so what does it matter? He thinks, above the wind, he can hear his name being called, but he doesn’t respond.  Instead, he curls further in on himself, settling back into the shadow of the ruins, and closes his eyes. The others won’t find him; the wind is picking up again and, if they’re smart, they’ll return to the tower and wait out the storm.  Wild opens his eyes and eyes the nearby silhouettes of trees. Any animals are sheltering away now, but come morning, if all is calm, they’ll reappear. Wild makes a plan in the back of his mind to hunt. They need food, but he also hopes it’ll clear his mind. 

His injured arm aches and his throat is clogged with emotion.  He’s exhausted, but there is little warmth where he now sits and he knows that, if he sleeps at all, it won’t be for a while longer.  So he stands post, eyes cast out into the storm. If something does attack tonight, he doubts it will be anything more than his own demons, but, for Time and Twilight’s sake, he’ll keep watch anyway.  He owes them that much. 

 

The howling wind is buffeting his hair, thrown loose from its tie in the day’s earlier battle, and part of him wants to tear at the strands and send them flying across the fields.  Wild doesn’t remember much from the ordeal at Arbiter’s Grounds, but there’s a hazy memory of fingers running through his hair. It’s the closest he’s felt to peace in a while, he thinks; that feeling is lost now, swept away with the branches and mud that flow past his feet.  Pockets of the field have flooded with water and, like tiny mirrors, they reflect the turmoil of the sky above. 

 

Wild stifles a sob and rests his forehead on his arms.      

 

* * *

 

 

Morning comes, bright and calm, and Wild has already slipped from his hiding place and into the tall grass.  The grass is shiny with rain water and dew, and it brushes against him, soft and gentle. He sits on the hill above the ranch, huddled in the shadow of a tree, and waits.  A pile of birds sits next to him, their feathers ruffled by a soft breeze. A little farther away, lays the body of young buck. A lucky shot, considering his arm hasn’t been complying with him that well this morning. 

 

The first to leave the shelter of the tower is Legend.  Wild watches as he stands in the entryway and looks around.  He can’t see the exact moment realization dawns, but soon enough Legend has disappeared into the tower, only to reappear dragging Warriors out as well.  

The two stand there, quiet.  One by one the others join as well, Sky carrying Wind on his back, until everyone but Twilight and Time are standing in middle of what was once Lon Lon Ranch’s horse track.  Wild can’t see their expressions from here, but by the way they’re looking around in circles, he can tell they’re shocked. They mill about, wandering aimlessly through the ruins.  Wild almost debates going down to them, but then Time appears and he’s frozen. 

 

Time walks from the tower, slowly, to middle of the field.  The others are still, watching like Wild as their leader stops and stares at the ruins of his home.  Not even Sky seems willing to reach out, to say something. 

Wild waits, clutching his wound, but the pain does nothing to stop the horror that overcomes him as he watches Time sink to his knees.  The others seem just as shocked, until Four Swords rushes forward and kneels in front of Time. The rest of them seem to take this as their cue to move as well, all of them coming together around Time’s bent form.  Wild turns away, his fist coming up to stop a scream from erupting from his mouth. He shouldn’t have brought them here. Shouldn’t have let Twilight get hurt. Shouldn’t have been such a stupid idiot. 

Somewhere, deep down, he’s knows there’s nothing he could have done.  Knows that Twilight made the decision to jump in front of him. Knows that no one, not even Time, could have done anything different.  

Wild clutches at his hair.  He needs to get out of here; if he doesn’t he’s going to scream and let loose and fuck over everything more than he already has.  He thinks of Twilight, laying alone in the tower, and he wants to go to him. To wake him up. To let Twilight tell him it’s going to be alright.  To let Time come over and pat his head and tell him it wasn’t his fault. 

He hadn’t realized how dependent on them he’d grown.  It wasn’t like this before; he hadn’t needed anyone else.  He’d been alone and that was that. He didn’t have people to turn to.  To rely on. 

Someone calls his name and Wild panics.  He can’t be here right now. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s sprinting down the other side of the hill, the rewards of his morning hunt forgotten.  He isn’t paying attention, his sight unfocused and blurry. 

He slips on a wet stone and, with a yelp, tumbles forward.  He rolls, bouncing the rest of the way until he lands in a bed of soft grass.  He lays there, dazed, listening to the calls of the others. A river flows to his left somewhere.

 

_ Hylia River _ , he thinks, idly, and remains where he lays.  He wishes he could soak into the ground like rain water; become one with the earth.  Flow into the river and be swept away downstream until he poured into the ocean and was scattered by the waves.  Hylia would be angry, but he figures water doesn’t have much to worrying about. 

He hopes the others find the birds and the buck.  Hopes they leave it at that and stop looking. 

 

“...Wild?”

 

Hope is a stupid thing.  

 

Wild turns his head and his throat clenches as he sees Time standing at the top of the hill, looking down at him.  He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, so instead he just stares back. Time is making his way slowly down the hillside; none of the others appear after him, which Wild is grateful for.  He’s not the most prideful of people, but having the others see him like... this, is not something he wishes.

By the time Time reaches Wild, it’s obvious he’s shaken.  Wild bites his lip when he’s sees that the skin around Time’s eye is red and slightly puffy.  His elder’s hands are shaking and he looks uncharacteristically lost. Wild opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.  

 

_ I’m sorry, _ he thinks.  

 

Time seems about as unable to speak as Wild.  He kneels a few feet away and stares at the ground, hands resting helpless on his lap.  They twitch, clenching and unclenching. For a moment, Wild thinks he sees Time motion with his fingers.  

 

_ I… _

 

Before Wild really knows what he’s doing, he’s bringing his own hands up, moving them slowly as he forms his thoughts. 

 

_ I’m sorry, _ he signs and Time’s eye is bright with understanding.  He hesitates, before bringing his hands up as well. 

 

_ It’s alright.  It’s not your fault. _

 

Wild shakes his head.  Time doesn’t understand, doesn’t realize that if it weren’t for him there’d still be a ranch and a track and Twilight would be awake and sitting next to them, laughing or making some stupid joke.   

 

_ I failed… it’s my fault this… that this place is…  _ His hands drop helplessly onto the ground next to him and Wild feels tears pricking at his eyes.  Time is silent, reaching forward to grasp one of Wild’s hands. He squeezes and Wild feels a sob building in his throat.  He tries again, removing his hand from Time’s grasp.  _ I couldn’t save it… I couldn’t stop them from destroying your home…    _

 

Time is watching him and there’s so much kindness in his eye.  Wild wants to shake him and yell at him and tell him that he doesn’t deserve Time’s kindness.  His understanding. He deserves to be left behind. 

 

Time must sense what he’s thinking, because he retakes Wild’s hand in his own, rubbing Wild’s knuckles with his thumb.  He gives Wild a sort of wobbly smile, and Wild has to turn away as he sees tears beginning to trail their way down Time’s cheek.  This isn’t right. Time is supposed to be unmovable. Strong. Time is supposed to stand tall and lead them, tell them what to do.  Wild doesn’t know what to do, and he gets the feeling Time doesn’t either. 

Wild jolts when he feels hands in his hair.  Time swallows, pushing Wild’s bangs away from his face and Wild stares with his mouth parted.

 

_ Oh, Cub… _

 

That’s it.  That’s what it takes, because suddenly Wild’s dam breaks and he’s got an arm across his eyes as his body is racked with silent sobs.  The hand in his hair retreats, but Wild doesn’t even have a chance to miss it before arms are gathering him up and holding him close. Time is shaking against him, silent as well, and Wild can’t help but press closer.  

 

He doesn’t know how long they sit there.  The others never come. It’s just Wild and Time, sitting together, until they’re interrupted by a very loud woodpecker.  Time jolts and Wild pulls away, staring at him. They’re silent and then Time surprises Wild by giving a watery laugh. Wild joins in a moment later, chuckling as they listen to the bird continue away with its work.  When they finally quiet and are able to catch their breaths, a calm settles over them. Wild swallows. A hand on his head brings his attention to Time, who’s smiling softly. 

 

“So young,” he says and there’s a certain sadness in his eye, removed from recent events.  Wild thinks he understands. It’s not fair. None of what they do is fair. He thinks of Wind, even younger than him, carrying the hero’s burden.  He thinks of Twilight and Four Swords and Legend and all of them on their own, not knowing what to do or how. He thinks of Time, whatever his story is, and how even now he can’t talk about it.  They’re all strong. They all did it, in some way or another. 

 

But it’s not fair.  

 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks again and he hopes Time understands.  It’s not just about the ranch or Twilight or failure. 

Time seems to want to object, but instead just nods and stands.  He reaches a hand down to help Wild up and, together, they begin to make their way back up the hill.  Halfway, Time notices the wound on Wild’s arm, grabbing it and turning it over as Wild hisses in pain.  Time reaches back and pulls a bit of cloth bandage from his pack, wrapping it around Wild’s arm with gentle hands.  When he’s finished he squeezes Wild’s shoulder. 

 

“You’re letting me take a closer look at that when we get back.” 

 

Wild nods, and can’t help the swell of happiness in his chest.

 

“Yes, sir.”  

 

* * *

 

Twilight wakes later that day with a groan.  Wild curls closer to him, clutching his mentor’s arm.  Time isn’t far away, sitting against the wall of the tower, watching them.  The others are outside, scavenging what they can (with Time’s permission, of course.)  Time hasn’t left the tower since he and Wild returned; it’s clear he doesn’t want to be in the ruins of his ranch any longer than he needs to. 

Twilight lifts an arm to his head with another groan, and Time smiles.  Wild shuts his eyes and sighs softly. He’s tired, and speaking still isn’t as easy as he wants it to be, so he’ll let Time cover this one.  He can feel Twilight shift beside him. 

 

“What happened?” Twilight mumbles, his voice scratchy and quiet.  Wild can hear Time give a huff of laughter.

 

“You were an idiot.”

 

Wild feels Twilight shift again and a hand comes to rest on his arm, investigating his newly wrapped wound.  He can hear Twilight swallow.

 

“Is the cub okay?”  

 

Time is quiet for a moment, and the hand on Wild’s arm stiffens.  It moves to his head, pushing his hair away from his face. 

 

“He’s fine,” Time finally says.  “Exhausted and worried sick over you, but fine.”

 

There are fingers threading through Wild’s hair and he can feel himself starting to fade.  Twilight is talking again, the rumble of his voice lulling Wild further and further into sleep.  He can hear Time chuckling and it brings a warmth to his chest that he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt before. 

His mentors voices are fading into the background.  Somewhere, outside, the others laugh. 

 

It’s peaceful.   


End file.
